Detestable Feelings
by Gerkyhen
Summary: Summary: These feelings, so cruel to her own heart... Because she did have a heart, no matter what he thought. Morrigan Centric. Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age. First Dragon Age fic, R


Detestable Feelings

_Summary: These feelings, so cruel to her own heart... Because she did have a heart, no matter what he thought. _

* * *

Morrigan studied Alistair from afar. Her golden eyes took in every detail of the man—if he could truly be described as a man... He was so boyish, it was unbelievable.

Morrigan had noted how young his facial expressions were, whether he was pouting, whether The Warden had teased him with a kiss, or whether he was grinning dopily.

He had softness about him, but also hardness, and though she hated to admit it, Morrigan found his personality endearing and even some of his jokes... funny.

It was a shame, then, that whenever any hardness entered those eyes of his, it seemed he was always looking at her.

Morrigan wasn't used to being in such close proximity of a man for such a long time.

She barely regarded Oghren as living, with his inane, drunken chattering. Sten was clearly much too duty-focused, and the elf was a little too aware of himself to her liking, though she admitted he was pretty to look upon.

Morrigan had watched the love that had bloomed between The Warden and Alistair and—as she had watched them—she, too, had fallen for him.

For the Alistair that gazed at The Warden with such love; even for the Alistair, who regarded her, Morrigan, with such disdain.

The witch's eyes fell to Alistair's lips: her favourite part about the man she was supposed to hate.

They looked soft and supple... How she longed to press her fingers to them.

She'd seen those lips pressed to The Warden's and had tried to picture herself in The Warden's stead... It wasn't possible, though; Morrigan was logical and she hated teasing, wishful fantasies.

She still, however, could get those lips to do things that The Warden never could; she would make them twist into wonderful shapes, as they curled around any retort or insult he threw her way.

Morrigan pressed him into these arguments. She wanted to watch those lips dance, and she enjoyed seeing the fire that lit up his eyes when she'd angered him because then she could picture that they were lit with something other than anger... Passion, maybe?

Yet, sometimes his replies came back like he was bored... like he was tired of her, and that stabbed at Morrigan's heart like no sword could. Because that meant she'd lost even the one thing that had stirred emotion in him.

He always saved her, though—unknowingly, of course; everyone was unknowing—by raising his voice, sounding incredulous at her words.

How she loved when he raised his voice because it was oh-so-rare!

Sometimes, she wondered if Alistair cared for her, or if he did everything he did because it was necessary. She was thinking, of course, of when he would charge in the way of impending enemies to protect her.

Morrigan wasn't stupid; she knew Alistair would leave her to the enemies in a heartbeat if it ever appeared that The Warden was in trouble.

That female warden... So sure of herself; obviously the dominating one in the relationship. Morrigan probably would have considered Alistair's dedication to the woman pitiful if it hadn't been **him**.

Sometimes, the witch wondered if The Warden had cottoned on to her. There were times when her golden eyes met The Warden's amber ones, and there was curiosity and a hint of a warning in the other woman's eyes.

The Warden had nothing to fear. Morrigan wasn't going to "open up her heart" any time soon. The thought of the humiliation she'd suffer was enough to put her off anything—for Morrigan was a proud woman—and that wasn't even mentioning that she knew he'd reject her with a sense of pity, repulsion, kindness and misguided politeness.

Besides, the thoughts alone were making her weak: just recently, she'd jumped in front of an arrow that could have hit him. Luckily, it had only skidded past her shoulder. The thought of having such an open thing—for lack of a better word—disgusted her. Scared her.

No, Morrigan would just stay, watching and admiring. Then she'd leave, once it was all over, and try to forget the man she'd accidentally fallen for.

* * *

_This is my first DAO fic. Though I've been playing DAO since it came out, I only just gathered up the courage to release a fic. I hope this was all right. Please R&R. _

_Thank you to Salysha for the beta'ing. :D _


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